Because I Must
by onesillypuppy
Summary: Harry's 6th year. AU. Harry has to take things into his own hands to prepare for the war. But will things change when he has to ask his most hated professor for help. Will be slash. *CURRENTLY UNDER REVISION WILL BE COMPLETED SOON*
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing. :(

A/N: This is my first official published fanfic so please review! I don't care if you totally tear apart my story it has to help at least a little. Along that note I really have no idea where this is going. I know where i would like it to go but chances are it won't happen that way. So please stick with me. Well here it goes!

Harry Potter sat impatiently in Dumbledore's office waiting for the old wizard to return with news. His heart still pounded erratically in his chest and blood wept freely from the gash on his left temple. His hands fumbled over his wand, paranoia keeping him from stashing it in his pocket, while his foot tapped out an insistent rhythm on the stone floor. A glance to either side found his two best friends in the same state of anticipation.

Ron Weasley slumped in the chair to Harry's right, slouced down so low it seemed he was trying to hide himself in the upholstery. His red hair hung limp just past his ears, drenched with sweat and grime. A white handkerchief was tied tightly around his upper arm, blood already seeping through, staining the white with a deep scarlet. Catching Harry's eye he offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Harry flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile and turned his gaze on his other companion.

Hermione Granger perched properly on the edge of her chair, hands folded lightly on her lap. If Harry hadn't known her he would have said she looked calm. But knowing her for 6 years now he could pick out the slight tremor in her delicate hands and the way her eyes darted frantically from the door to the window and back. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back in a hasty bun almost disguising the dirt that coated it. Another attempt at a reassuring smile and Harry returned to staring at his own nervous hands as the scene replayed in his head.

It was Halloween, the first Hogsmead day of Harry's 6th year. He had been in Honeydukes when the attack hit. They all apparated in at once, a flurry of black robes and masks. The curses were flying before anyone could even register what they saw. The ring of students standing immediately around the Death Eaters dropped like flies. Instincts kicked in sending Harry running into the street, closely followed by Ron, Hermione, and a handful of older students. With a blaze of multi colored spells, the small group attacked the Death Eaters, giving the other occupants of the village a chance to run. Harry was oblivious to the chaos around him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins narrowing his focus to a single objective. He hadn't even felt the hex that wounded his head. His rage and fear flowed from him in a slur of magic, stopping only when the Death Eaters vanished, Disapparating as fast as they had appeared. Harry's body had gone numb by this point, his mind running on auto pilot. He turned dazedly to see Dumbledore and the rest of the staff striding quickly towards them. Dumbledore gave Harry hasty orders to return to the castle and wait for him in his office.

And so it was that Harry, Ron, and Hermione came to be sitting in the stuffy office cursing the slow old man. Harry couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been here. In a fit of rage over Sirius's near death experience he had destroyed over half of Dumbledore's possessions. After, when Harry had calmed down enough to listen, Dumbledore had told Harry of the prophecy that had shaped his life thus far and would continue to do so until the final, inevitable battle with Voldemort. The next day Harry had left Hogwarts for a very dull summer spent with the Dursleys. The last week, Harry had been removed to Headquarters for an equally dull stay with his still healing Godfather.

With the revelation of the prophecy Harry had expected things to change upon his return to the castle. New classes, special training, something to prove that they were indeed preparing for a war. But the first of September brought only disappointment for Harry. Classes had carried on as usual and Harry was just another student, not the boy destined to kill the Dark Lord. The world still turned in spite of the pending war. But now the war had come to them. The proverbial wolf was howling at the door, demanding change. Dumbledore could not ignore this.

As if on cue the door opened admitting a weary Dumbledore, who strode purposefully to take his seat behind the desk. A raised hand stopped the Gryffindor's questions on their tongues. With a deep sigh he spoke, his voice conveying the depth of his fatigue.

"No one was killed. Two third year Ravenclaw's and one first year Gryffindor were transferred to St. Mungo's. They're expected to make a full recovery. Everyone else is in the Hospital Wing or already back with their houses." A relieved sigh issued from the three students. Harry gazed expectantly at Dumbledore waiting for the rest of the story. He was not disappointed. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger. You should go have your injuries looked at. Harry will meet you in the Hospital Wing shortly." With a quick glance at Harry the pair rose and hurried from the room.

Harry stared intently at tired blue eyes behind half moon glasses. Hundreds of questions skimmed through his head. Dumbledore waited patiently for Harry to sort out his thoughts. He decided to start with the obvious.

"What went wrong?" Dumbledore leaned forward, leaning his elbows on the desk and making a tent with his hands.

"The Order was not informed of this attack. We had no way of preventing or preparing for it." His voice was flat, carrying no inflection, like he'd rehearsed this conversation ahead of time.

"But isn't that Snape's job? To get information about Voldemort's attacks?" Harry's voice carried an accusation that he didn't even try to hide.

"_Professor _Snape, Harry. And yes that was his job."

"_Was_?" Dumbledore sighed for the second time in as many minutes.

"Professor Snape was discovered as a spy two weeks after the end of last term." His voice was flat again and his eyes dropped almost guiltily to stare at his desk. Harry began suspecting that Dumbledore really didn't want to have this conversation with him.

"So the Order has been in the dark for months?" Harry was barely able to contain the anger that boiled up inside of him. "And nobody bothered to tell me this?"

"Not completely in the dark," Dumbledore stated, choosing to ignore Harry's last comment. "We've managed to secure a new source of information." Intrigued, Harry had to ask.

"Who?" Dumbledore raised his eyes, which now held that all too familiar twinkle.

"Draco Malfoy." Harry's jaw dropped and he sputtered for words.

"You... honestly... but... You really think we can trust him?" The question came out harsh and unbelieving.

"I know we can trust him." Harry raised an eyebrow and Dumbledore answered the unspoken question. "I am not at liberty to say. If you wish to know you must ask Mr. Malfoy yourself." Harry snorted. _Not likely. He'd rather curse me than talk to me._

"And why was I not informed of this?" Harry's anger boiled up again, seeping into his voice. "Why haven't we been preparing for this since the beginning of the school year?"

"The Ministry has ruled that when the time comes to face Voldemort my students will not be involved." Dumbledore met Harry's anger with a resigned determination.

"And me?!" Harry's voice rose steadily until he was shouting. "Am I not _destined _to destroy him?! Why am I here taking classes instead of training!?"

"My hands are tied in this matter Harry!" Dumbledore's harsh voice startled Harry causing him to involuntarily scoot back in his chair. Dumbledore took a deep breath before continuing. "The Ministry wished for the school to remain unchanged in a naive effort to retain the students' innocence. Though I might wish it otherwise, that is the way it must be. The Minister himself has been keeping a very close eye on me." Harry cast his eyes warily around the office as though trying to spot a spy conveniently hiding in the corner.

"So what am I supposed to do? I can't face him unprepared." Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye growing brighter.

"While the Ministry is keeping an eye on me, they are not observing the rest of my staff with the same scrutiny. It just so happens that we have an expert in this very castle." Harry racked his brain coming up with only one answer.

"Professor Snape?" Dumbledore's smile grew wider answering the question for him. "He hates me. You saw how badly our Occlumency lessons went. Why would this be any different?"

"I think you need to give this a chance." Harry sighed and slumped back in his chair, accepting his defeat grudgingly.

"I don't really have a choice do I?" Dumbledore smiled infuriatingly wider, eyes filling with amusement at his student's plight.

"I believe you can find Professor Snape in the Hospital Wing. You should have your head looked at in any case." Taking that as the dismissal it was intended as, Harry rose glumly from his seat.

"Thank you sir." Harry walked resignedly from the office.

A/N: So that was it... the first chapter. Is it worth writing more on? Tell me what you think... please please please!


	2. Chapter 2

1Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your reviews!! I totally didn't expect them!! To answer some questions, yes this is HP/SS... or will be eventually, and yes I did notice the irony and I'm SO glad somebody else did!! :) Yay!! Also FYI the rating on this may change depending on where it goes. It's still a major work in progress so expect some small changes. So yeah. Thanks again for all your input on the story! Makes me so happy!! So this chapter didn't turn out quite how I wanted it but here it goes anyway.

Harry stepped reluctantly into the Hospital Wing, sweeping his eyes across the long room. He caught a glimpse of bruised and bloody faces before an almost frantic Madame Pomfrey bustled over to him.

"Harry. How badly are you hurt?" Without waiting for his answer she pulled him into a vacant chair and proceeded to examine his head. After a few painful prods she nodded and pulled away. "Do you feel any dizziness or nausea?" Harry shook his head. She nodded again. "You'll need a Blood Replenishing Potion. Of course if you had been brought to me straight away you wouldn't even need that." Harry smiled as she hurried away, still muttering something about people interfering with her job.

Harry surveyed the room again, uninterrupted this time. Every bed was full and several students, like Harry, sat in chairs along the walls, totaling over 30 students in all. Harry spotted Ron being treated by Professor McGonagall at the other end of the Wing, Hermione hovering anxiously next to him. He could pick out a couple other faces from his year among the injured, but the majority of them were younger, first or second years. _What kind of people could attack children,_ he asked himself furiously. _What did they ever do to deserve this? _

He was pulled from his thoughts by the black robed, solemn, Professor Snape striding towards him carrying what he assumed was his Blood Replenishing potion. Snape stopped directly in front of Harry and silently handed him the potion. Harry drained the foul tasting liquid in one swallow and handed the empty vial back to Snape, who stored it in his pocket. He pulled, from the same pocket, four items that Harry recognized as Muggle butterfly bandages.

"May I?" Without waiting for a reply Snape knelt on the floor next to Harry. He muttered a quick cleansing charm and Harry hissed from the sharp stinging the spread through his head as the wound was cleaned. Snape leaned in and began carefully closing the gash with the butterfly bandages. Harry took the opportunity to study Snape. His hair hung limply to his shoulders, shiny with hair products or grease, though Harry strongly suspected the latter. His eyes were the same cruel black that Harry had grown accustomed to over the years. His attitude toward Harry had worsened, if that was even possible, due to the incident last year where Harry's curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had pried into Snape's memories. Snape now took every opportunity to harass Harry with snide remarks and scathing looks. He took away house points for the smallest of incidents and Harry was certain that the reason he was failing his NEWT level potions class was because of Snape's hatred and bias. And now he needed Snape's help. How sickeningly ironic. Harry sighed and waited for Snape to finish with the bandages before speaking.

"Professor? Can I speak with you for a minute?" Harry stuffed down the part of him that wanted to hex Snape into oblivion and tried his best to be polite.

"What is it Potter? If you haven't noticed, I'm a little busy." Harry, again, swallowed his anger and replaced it with politeness.

"I spoke with Professor Dumbledore about preparing for the war." Snape's eyes widened and he glanced around looking for possible eavesdroppers. "He told me about the Ministry's decision to not train the students." Harry paused, not sure how to proceed, and Snape jumped willingly into the silence.

"And what could this possibly have to do with me?" He stared at Harry, obvious annoyance filling his eyes and voice. Harry's anger boiled up again and he spoke, unable to completely control himself.

"I need your help training for the war." Snape froze, staring intently at Harry with surprised eyes. "The Ministry is watching Dumbledore or he'd train me himself. You're pretty much my last resort." Harry wondered if he should have admitted that but shrugged it off and met Snape's stare.

"We will need to talk in a more private place. Meet me tonight after the feast. In my office, 9 o'clock sharp." Harry's anger slipped away and he nodded and watched as Snape turned and strode away to another student. Harry was soon joined by Hermione and a healed Ron, and the three Gryffindors exited the Hospital Wing.

Harry walked quickly through the dark winding hallways. Nerves filled his stomach with butterflies, putting him in a worse mood than he already was. The Feast had been a subdued event. The Great Hall was filled with scared and injured students who had finally realized the severity of the situation they were facing. Though Dumbledore had tried to carry on like nothing had happened, nothing could break through the somber mood that had settled heavily on his students. Harry himself had tried to lighten the mood several times only to be met with a few feeble smiles and nervous laughs. Finally he had surrendered himself to sitting silently and worrying about his meeting with Snape. Definitely not a subject that would brighten his spirits. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts as he rounded the last corner and stopped outside Snape's office. With a deep calming breath and a surge of courage he knocked softly on the door. Part of him hoped that no one would answer. No such luck.

"Come in." Harry pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit office. Snape was sitting behind his desk bent over a stack of papers. He glanced up for a moment as Harry walked towards the desk, before returning to his work. Minutes passed as Harry stood awkwardly waiting for Snape to acknowledge him. Harry had just begun cursing Snape's rudeness when he finally set down his quill and leaned back in his chair. "You said you needed to speak with me. Speak." Harry swallowed hard and managed to pull back the crude remark that threatened to spill from his mouth.

"Well like I said I spoke to Professor Dumbledore. He seems to think that the only way for me to receive the training I need is to take lessons from you." Harry suddenly found the floor very interesting to watch. "So I'm asking for your help." The last was said in barely more than a mumble.

"And why, Potter, do you think that these lessons would work out any better than our Occlumency lessons?" The sarcasm in Snape's voice made Harry cringe and he realized what Snape was trying to do. Deciding to play along, he answered, gaze still firmly planted on the ground.

"I've been thinking about that. I never really apologized to you. I _am_ sorry." The last was said with almost desperate sincerity but Snape snorted and Harry looked up to find his eyes filled with cold amusement.

"You really expect me to believe that. The Boy-Who-Lived playing the innocent child to get what he wants. Ha!" He sneered at Harry. Harry tried to control himself but it was a lost cause.

"I was trying to be polite." The words came out harsher than Harry had intended but they got the point across. "Just because you can't let something go doesn't mean that I should be punished for it." Snape jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing with anger, and Harry took a step back, wondering if he'd pushed the man too far. When Snape finally spoke his voice was cold enough to send shivers down Harry's spine.

"If the apology had been sincere it would be a different matter." Snape leaned over his desk, looming over Harry in a not-so-subtle threat. "Do you really expect me to believe that you and your little friends didn't have a great big laugh over the treatment I received from your idiotic father and your mutt of a Godfather?" Harry snapped.

"You think I like knowing that my dad was a complete _prick_?! You think I really get off on knowing that him and his friends made people's lives _hell_?!" Snape leaned back in surprise. "You need to stop living in the past and wake up! Open your eyes and look around! Maybe then you'll realize that I'm not my father!" Harry shuddered to a stop, out of breath and tired. He stared at Snape, waiting for the man to vault the desk and strangle him to death. When the attack didn't come Harry sighed and walked away. He paused for a moment at the door and looked back at his stunned potions Professor. "I really am sorry." He left quickly, the door closing softly behind him.

A/N: Ok, so that _so_ didn't go how I planned. Damn characters have a mind of their own. And it's a lot shorter than I wanted it too. Oh well I guess it worked out anyway. But tell me what you think? This one might need to be rewritten.


	3. Chapter 3

1Disclaimer: I really think these should just be posted once and count for the whole story. But to be safe I still own nothing. :(

A/N: Thanks again for everybody who reviewed. You guys rock!! Now for some bad news. My mom is insisting that I go on vacation with her for three freaking weeks to the middle of nowhere where they've never even heard of internet. So sadly this will be the last update for a while but I promise that when I get back I will have loads of chapters for you guys. So here it goes:

Severus Snape was stunned. For a man who prided himself on his quick comebacks he found himself suddenly speechless. He saw the boy in front of him glance up warily, no doubt expecting an attack. But Severus found himself paralyzed, completely unable to respond. Potter's outburst still echoed in his ears, his angry, accusing, voice filling his head. Severus had never imagined that the boy had enough guts to stand up to him. He watched as Potter walked dejectedly to the door of his office. The teen stopped halfway through the door and glanced back, bright green eyes meeting his stunned stare.

"I really am sorry." The boy turned and walked away, closing the door gently behind him. Severus got the sudden, unexplainable urge to go after him. Regaining some of his composure, he calmly sat back down instead.

_Since when did Potter have that kind of courage? _Severus cast his memory back looking for when the change happened in the Gryffindor. He finally decided that it had a lot to do with the incident in the Ministry. Potter had very nearly cost his godfather his life, a fact which Severus had taunted the boy with on several occasions. This school year had presented a calmer, more collected Potter. The teen chose not to react when people harassed him, not even lashing out at Draco as he had in years past. Severus could even count on one hand the number of times the boy had spoken back to him. That, he concluded, was the answer. Potter had finally grown up.

Severus sighed and pushed himself to his feet, quickly walking through the door at the back of his office into his private quarters. _And now Potter is asking for my help. _Severus poured himself a large glass of Firewhiskey, determined to forget what he had to do.

Harry walked slowly through the empty halls, already regretting losing his temper. Now he was right back where he started, Snape hating his guts and no one to help him train. Harry's head pounded with the onslaught of a migraine as he tried to push his thoughts from his mind. He climbed the last set of stairs to the first floor, the giant front doors of Hogwarts coming into view. Along with the body lying face down in a puddle of blood. Harry sprinted across the Entrance Hall and skidded to a halt next to the limp form, cringing as he recognized the fair skin and pale blonde hair. The Gryffindor sank to his knees next to Malfoy, watching and listening for any kind or movement or sound. He sighed in relief when the Slytherin's back rose shakily, drawing in a shallow breath. Gently Harry rolled the boy over and gasped at what he saw.

Malfoy's face was covered in purple and black bruises and bleeding gashes. The front of his robes were coated in blood and a quick look revealed a long slice down the left side of his torso. Not waiting to find anymore injuries, Harry maneuvered his arms under Malfoy's shoulders and knees. He lifted the Slytherin, wincing at how small and light he felt. As gently as possible, Harry ran to the Hospital Wing.

Severus had worked up a nice buzz. He sat in his favorite black leather armchair next to the fire, his fourth or fifth glass of Firewhiskey in his right hand, the half empty bottle in his left. Along with his buzz he'd also managed to produce a large bought of self pity, which he was currently wallowing in. Severus didn't allow himself the privilege very often and was enjoying every minute of it.

He was drawn from his reverie by a soft chiming. A moment of confusion racked his inebriated brain before he realized it was the alarm he'd set on the fireplace, a sort of doorbell so there were no unwanted visitors. Annoyance settled over him as he sluggishly drew his wand disabled the spells. Poppy Pomfrey's face appeared moments later, suspended in the fire.

"This had better be good," Severus grumbled moodily.

"Severus you need to get down here. Now." The frantic tone in her voice startle Severus, clearing his mind a little.

"What's happened?"

"Draco's just returned. He's in bad shape." The last of Severus's buzz fled as he leapt to his feet and ran from the room.

Severus expected chaos when he entered the Hospital Wing. What he found instead were somber faces circling a single bed. Preparing himself for the worst he crossed the room as calmly as possible. He slid into the circle next to Albus and looked down at the unconscious, but mercifully breathing, form. The sight of his godson was like a fist squeezing his heart. Dark bruises littered the boy's face and chest along with several small abrasions. White bandages wrapped around the boys torso and left shoulder, blood already seeping through down his left side. Severus turned pleading eyes to the man next to him and Albus hurried to explain the situation.

"Madame Pomfrey assures me that he will be fine. He's a very lucky boy. A few more minuted and he would have bled to death." Severus sagged in relief, releasing the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Where was he?"

"Collapsed by the front doors." Albus paused for a moment, considering. "Mr. Potter was the one who discovered him." Severus's eyes widened and he scanned the room for the boy but found only adults. He turned his gaze back to Albus's. "I've sent him back to Gryffindor tower with a promise to keep him informed on Mr. Malfoy's condition." That infuriating twinkle filled Albus's eyes and Severus instinctively knew the Headmaster was up to something. "What I want to know is why Mr. Potter was out after hours in the first place."

"Potter was with me," Severus said in a tone that implied the subject was closed. From Albus's smile Severus guessed that no further explanation was even needed. Deciding to play it safe anyway the Potion's Master changed the subject. "When will Draco wake?" Albus's smile widened and he answered, allowing the subject to be changed.

"He's been given a Dreamless Sleep, and is no doubt entirely exhausted. He should at least sleep through the night." Severus nodded and turned to Poppy.

"You'll notify me the moment he wakes?" It was more a statement than a request but she nodded anyway.

Severus bid the Headmaster a hasty good night and retreated quickly back to his rooms, mind racing over the new information he gathered in such a short amount of time. Draco had been involved in something very serious, which Severus wasn't even going to guess at. And Potter saved the day, yet again. But this time he'd saved his enemy's life, adding a whole new layer of depth to the boy. Severus had never expected the Gryffindor to be heartless enough to let someone die but to have it hit so close to home was startling. _Damn Potter for being such a decent person. _The Head of Slytherin picked up the abandoned bottle from the floor and resumed his earlier goal of drowning out his thoughts.

A/N: Once again the characters have a mind of their own. Sorry it's so short, packing for this ridiculous vacation got in my way. I totally swear to have at least 5 very long chapters written and ready to be posted when I come back. And if I don't you can throw tomatoes and other random vegetables at me. So yeah. Tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: It's been a really really long time since I updated this story. I could make excuses but I'm sure you've heard them all before. However, this story is now finished and I'm just editing it before I post it. So that's totally exciting! :D I have to apologize though for this chapter in specific. It might be a little dull. It's mostly a chapter full of conversations setting things up for the rest of the totally awesome story! Well... the next chapter should be up sometime next week when I get time to read it again for mistakes. Thanks everyone!!!

Harry returned wearily to the Gryffindor common room only to be met by the anxious faces of Ron and Hermione. He hastily recapped the befuddling events of the night in hopes that he would soon be able to excuse himself and retire to his bed where he could think in peace. Ron, however, had other ideas.

"You really are going to take lessons from Snape then?" He looked appalled at the thought of anyone voluntarily spending time with the greasy git.

"If he'll teach me. And it's not like I really have a choice here. I need the training." Harry sighed knowing Ron wouldn't fully understand his decision.

"But classes are teaching you stuff right? I mean, why couldn't you continue on with them and do some extra studying in your free time?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to kill Voldemort with the things I learn in class." Ron still flinched at the name and looked at Harry with something akin to horror.

"What're we talking about here Harry? Are you seriously considering learning the Dark Arts?" Harry met Ron's gaze with one of resignation.

"I'll do whatever it takes to defeat Voldemort. The bastard has controlled my life for far too long." Ron's jaw dropped and he stammered trying to find something to say. In the end he appealed to Hermione who had been ignoring the conversation in favor of her Arithmancy book.

"Do you hear what he's saying? He's going to learn the Dark Arts!" Hermione looked up from her book in consideration.

"I hear Ron. I understand where you're coming from Harry and I even agree that you need to have _some_ knowledge of the Dark Arts in order to fight the Darkest wizard of the century." She gave Harry a small smile before settling into lecture mode. "But you need to realize that there is a difference between learning the Dark Arts and practicing them. If what you intend to do is face Voldemort with your own arsenal of Dark spells then I'm going to have to adamantly disagree."

"I will not become a Dark wizard. I just need to know what I'm up against." Hermione nodded and smiled before returning to her book. Ron stared at the both of them as if they'd sprouted second heads, jaw hanging open and eyes as big as soup bowls.

"You're both nuts. That's all there is to it. You've both gone round the bend." Harry met Ron's stare and couldn't help but laugh. Ron hesitantly joined in, more to ease the tension than out of humor.

"We've not lost it Ron we're simply being practical," Hermione said, not even bothering to look at them. "As long as Harry is careful there's nothing to worry about. Besides I'm sure Snape wouldn't allow Harry to get in too deep." Her practical statement ended the debate, though Ron looked as if he would gladly argue about it all night. Harry quickly excused himself, claiming exhaustion, and hurried to his bed.

___________

Draco woke slowly, letting awareness seep into his mind, registering the sharp ache plaguing his body. Warily he opened his eyes, wincing as bright daylight blinded him. The pain in his head doubled and he seriously considered passing out again. Instead he painfully turned his head, taking in the half empty Hospital Wing and a bustling Madame Pomfrey rushing around with morning potions. Draco groaned as the infuriating woman caught his eye and hustled to his bedside.

"How are you feeling dear?" The medi-witch began examining him without waiting for an answer, but Draco gave her one anyway.

"How does it look like I feel?" His voice was hoarse and small and unable to carry the sarcasm his question warranted. Madame Pomfrey ignored his comment and handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully downed.

"Well you're going to need a bandage change and some potions, but we'll wait until Professor Snape gets up here for that." Draco winced at his godfather's name. Of all the people he didn't want to see right now, Severus was at the top of the list.

Ten minutes later an irate Potion's Master came bursting through the doors. Draco sighed noting the dark circles under Severus's eyes. Draco knew from experience that when Severus got anything less than eight hours of sleep he ended up ridiculously irritable the next morning. The Slytherin decided to head off his godfather's attack.

"You look angry this morning," Draco said in the light, airy tone he'd perfected just for the purpose of galling his godfather. The statement earned him one of Severus's glares. Draco just smiled.

"Last night wasn't exactly peaceful." Severus slouched down in the chair beside Draco's bed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"Want to tell me about it?" It was an old joke between them, Draco trying to pry into Severus's personal life just like the older man pried into his. It got the expected half smile as the Potion's Master sat forward and rested his elbows on the bed.

"That's my line." The young Slytherin smirked, glad that he'd put his godfather in a better mood. "So what happened last night?" Draco's face fell and he looked away, unable to meet Severus's eyes.

"Nothing really. He was angry and he took it out on me." The Slytherin's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Angry about what? The attack? Surely he didn't think a handful of Death Eaters could take down the school?" Draco shook his head.

"The attack was… unplanned." Draco glanced at his godfather from the corner of his eye, just in time to see the man frown.

"Unplanned? What do you mean the attack was unplanned?" A fine thread of anger had worked its way into the Potion Master's voice. Draco sighed and plunged ahead.

"Some of the newbies took it upon themselves to attack Hogsmead. The Dark Lord never gave any such orders." Draco met Severus's angry stare, waiting for the words to start flying. He wasn't disappointed.

"Newbies?! You mean to tell me that they were students!?!" Severus's eyes widened alarmingly and Draco cringed in anticipation. "Were you there!?!"

"No I wasn't there, but yes, they were students." Draco's voice was flat and the Slytherin watched as his Head of House visibly tried to calm himself.

"Why were you punished?"

"Because I was there. You know how he gets." Severus nodded, he did know how unpredictable the Dark Lord could be. "He's given me a new assignment," Draco whispered. The older man looked at him sharply.

"And what's that?"

"He wants me to get close to Potter. Get information from him." Draco stared at his godfather beseechingly, eyes pleading for the help he was too proud to ask for. "There's no way. Potter won't do it." The Slytherin watched as Severus pondered the dilemma silently for a moment before offering his advice.

"What if you were to inform Potter of the plan? I'm sure his Gryffindor nature wouldn't allow him to say no." Draco shook his head and opened his mouth to protest only to be cut off by the older man. "Potter has asked me to give him lessons. If you want I could bring up your plight. Then when you approach him it won't be a complete shock." Draco smiled at him, knowing that his nurturing side was showing through the gruff exterior.

"If you could." Severus nodded, effectively closing the discussion. The Potion's Master pulled three brightly colored potions from his robes and placed them on the nightstand.

"Take all three of these and get some rest." Draco nodded and moved to grab the potions but was stopped by a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his godfather smiling down at him. "Don't worry. I'll help you." Draco sighed and smiled back. The young Slytherin downed the three potions and drifted into a restless sleep.

________________

Severus watched as his godson drifted off to sleep, worriedly noting the paler than normal skin and crimson blood soaking through the bandages. With a sigh he waved to Madame Pomfrey, who hustled to his side.

"Call if anything changes." The woman nodded and moved to Draco's side to begin his bandage change. Severus observed for a moment and deemed his godson was in capable hands. Turning in a swish of robes Severus strode from the Hospital Wing, lost in thought of ways to help Draco.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as he opened the doors of the Hospital Wing and ran directly into the Boy Who Lived. Potter looked as though his night hadn't been any better than the Potion's Master. He looked up with dull green eyes sporting a wary look akin to that of a kicked puppy. Severus sighed and let the door swing closed behind him before grudgingly greeting the Gryffindor.

"Potter." His voice was perfectly calm, neither inviting nor discouraging response. Potter, being as obnoxious as ever, took it as an invitation for questions.

"How is Malfoy?" The boy sounded genuinely concerned and Severus was hard pressed to hide his surprise. Composing himself, he civilly answered the question.

"He is doing well. He's healing quickly but it will be a couple days before he's back on his feet." Potter nodded and was unable to hide his surprise from Severus.

"I just thought I should come check on him." Potter held Severus's gaze for a moment and the Potion's Master could almost feel the plea in his eyes. With a sigh the boy gave up and turned to leave. Severus groaned quietly and quickly caught the golden boy by the arm.

"Detention, Potter. Monday night. 7:00. Don't be late." The boy wonder looked outraged and Severus gave him an exasperated sigh and a ferocious stare. The Potion's Master waited until the light bulb turned on and Potter's eyes widen with understanding before releasing the boy. Potter nodded, and much to Severus's relief, turned and walked away.

Severus retreated back to his rooms, eternally thankful that it was Saturday. He had fallen asleep in his chair last night, which explained his sore back. The mostly empty bottle of Firewhiskey he'd found on the floor this morning explained the headache. The fact that he had spent the morning in discussion with Draco and the Boy Who Bloody Lived didn't help either. Overall his Saturday was off to an infuriating start.

The Potion's Master groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. For a moment he considered opening another bottle of Firewhiskey but decided a second later that 10 in the morning was far too early to begin drinking. Instead he grabbed a book randomly from the multitude of book shelves lining the walls and sat down in his chair, trying to salvage what was left of his Saturday. It was not meant to be though. No sooner had he opened the book than the chimes on his fireplace rang out. With a curse Severus removed the wards and was greeted by an all together too happy Headmaster's head perched in the fire.

"Severus, my boy. Are you exceedingly busy?" Severus glared at the Headmaster and desperately wished he could say yes. Instead he set his book aside and responded to the annoying old coot.

"No. Did you want me to come up?" The Headmaster smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically. "I'll come through the floo if it's all the same to you," Severus added, not relishing the idea of climbing the multiple flights of stairs to the old man's office. The Headmaster promptly pulled his head from the flames. Severus rose and, with a curse for old men who had nothing better to do than bother people, threw a fistful of powder and flooed to the Headmaster's office.

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Stumbling slightly as he exited the fire, Severus took in the office he had visited so many times before. His eyes were inexplicable drawn to the table that had once held several gaudy silver instruments of unknown purpose. Severus had heard that Potter had lost his temper for the first time with the Headmaster, at the end of the previous school year, upon hearing the prophecy. Until that moment he was loath to believe that the Boy Who Lived would utter an angry word in the presence of the great Albus Dumbledore. Seeing the instruments missing, and thus proving the Golden Boy's defiance, Severus grudgingly allowed yet another layer of respect for Potter build up in his mind. Gather his wits about him he turned his gaze to the twinkling blue eyes, waiting patiently behind the desk.

"You wanted to speak with me Albus," Severus inquired as he lowered himself into a chair opposite the old man.

"How has your morning been Severus?" The maddeningly happy old man always had a knack for pinpointing the exact thing that would cause Severus the most annoyance. Severus sighed and humored the Headmaster, hoping if he cooperated Albus would cut to the chase.

"As well as can be expected I suppose." The silver haired wizard nodded before leaning forward, asserting the importance of his next statement. Severus sighed with relief that the Headmaster wasn't going to prolong his agony.

"You spoke with Mister Malfoy this morning, correct?"

"Yes. The attack on Hogsmead was the idea of a few students. They didn't have orders nor permission to attack the village." Albus nodded, bringing a hand to his silver beard in contemplation.

"Was Mister Malfoy a participant?"

"No. But he has been given a new assignment." Albus motioned for Severus to explain. "He's been ordered to get close to Potter, to retrieve information from him."

"Well then we'll have to set it up…" Severus interrupted the Headmaster.

"I'm on it. I think I'm going to ask for Draco's help in Potter's lessons." The Headmaster grinned uncontrollably and Severus groaned.

"So you have decided to help Harry after all." Severus looked away, deciding that making eye contact with the Headmaster at this moment wouldn't be in his best interests.

"You already know what I'm going to teach him Albus. The brat doesn't stand a chance with out some sort of knowledge of the things he'll be facing." He dared a glance back at the no longer beaming face. Albus stared at him with a contemplative look and Severus mentally prepared himself to defend his plan. To his immense surprise it wasn't needed.

"I understand, my boy. Be careful. Watch him closely." Severus nodded before adding one last thing.

"I also can't guarantee the success of the lessons. I really don't know if they'll last the week." Albus beamed at him again.

"Get to know him. You may find you have more in common than you think." Deciding that the Headmaster had officially stopped making sense Severus rose and bid him farewell. Severus finally retired to his rooms, deciding 10 in the morning wasn't too early for Firewhiskey after all.


End file.
